


Expectation Vs Reality

by SomethingCorprt



Series: Great Expectations [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-03 03:25:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10234781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomethingCorprt/pseuds/SomethingCorprt
Summary: Ian and Mickey have been together for just over a year. They are in sync with one another and their sexual appetite is not about to waiver.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I dare you to listen to Portishead =0)

After telling someone you want to cut them up and make them into stars, they hang around. To be exact Ian hung around for a whole year and counting. Mickey wasn't complaining in the least. Ian Gallagher, after some prompting was the exact definition of lady in the streets freak in the sheets. When Mickey first mentioned that to Ian Mickey was the recipient of a well deserved smack upside the head. Ian wasn't a lady. He loved his dick as much as he loved Mickey and you could tease him calling him a princess or whatever sassy thing Mickey threw his way but call him a lady and that hit a nerve.

Right now Mickey was dealing with the freak. 

"You doing OK?" said Ian. Mickey who was tied up like a hog felt emasculated, but the second he thought "fuck this shit" Ian would hit a sweet spot and Mickey would come undone. 

"Gallagher would you fuckin' hurry up my wrists are turning red" replied Mickey. Wrong choice.

Ian took that as his cue to literally hurry up and Mickey's ass was being assaulted. Ian pounded away while massaging Mickey's perineum. It was to much for Mickey’s sense and he was cuming within minuets. Ian however needed some more so once Mickey was untied, and Ian had cleaned up Mickey went to work taking Ian in his mouth.

Mickey felt the weight of Ian’s member on his tongue, it had become a welcoming weight to carry. Just like everything else in his life the redhead filled him up and Mickey adapted to it. He grazed his teeth lightly over the shaft pulling away, his lips forming a perfect O over the tip. Mickey looked at Ian through his dark lashes and saw that his head was thrown back, moving his eyes lower he noticed Ian’s thighs shaking and he knew that it was only moments before he’d taste the warm salty liquid that was about to spill out. Mickey grabbed onto Ian’s ass cheeks pushing him deeper down his throat and Ian released his load. Mickey swallowed hungrily and then peppered Ian with kisses along his dick and up his thighs. 

“You’re such a sap” teased Ian knowing fully well that he was just as far gone as Mickey when it came to loving him. 

Mickey just looked at Ian, his eyebrows sky high on his face “Really McMumbles? You were the one talking in his sleep last night about spooning and all that shit.” Although he was giving Ian shit about it Mickey secretly loved that Ian wanted to be as close as humanly possible to him. Ian was like a power source and Mickey felt completely charged with him. He leaned over cupped Ian’s face in his hands and kissed him gently. “Gotta get to work.” He hopped off the bed and headed for the shower leaving a naked, groaning Ian stretched out on their bed. 

Mickey let the hot water pelt his achy body. He rubbed his wrists with frothy soap remembering the feeling of the restraints and his ass cheeks clenched together in response. Since meeting Ian, Mickey didn’t have to use his toys as much, but they weren’t necessarily retired. Ian who had never had the need to use toys in the past now was becoming quite the connoisseur. It also helped that working at the shop gave him an advantage. A year ago neither man knew this is where they would be, but here they were. Living together and experimenting safely within each other’s boundaries. It was equally exciting and stable; the latter which was alien for two South Side kids. Ian had the capability to kiss Mickey until it hurt and embrace him when faded scars resurfaced. He continued to lather his body with soap thinking about the redhead he was totally in love with.

*****  
Mickey was working at the book shop stocking the new Jodi Picoult novel. It was towards the end of his shift and he was itching to get home. Ian had texted him earlier a winky smiley face and then went radio silent leaving Mickey beyond curious. Time ticked away slowly and as he was closing out the register another text icon popped on his screen. It was a picture of the Whoredini bottle next to Ian’s face with a crazy sexy grin. Mickey wanted to bolt home that instant. Unfortunately this was the exact time his boss Rachel decided to corner him. “Mikhailo” she said tentatively before pressing him again. Mickey looked at her with raised eyebrows prompting her to go on.

“I wanted to tell you I read your draft…. I think you have something really special there” she said with finality. 

Mickey’s quiet obsession with reading had recently spilled out into the creative realm. He had started writing with no real direction and gave it to the only person he trusted. Ian. Ian passed all necessary exams to be considered a high school graduate but had no real interest in learning. Understanding the gravity of the papers he was given he was sure to be delicate with his assessment. So when Ian finished reading Mickey’s deconstructed work he could only wrap Mickey in his chiseled arms and dip his head onto Mickey’s shoulder and kiss his neck slowly singing his praise. 

Ian continuously approved of Mickey’s work that night but Mickey was pulled from his reverie by Rachel’s voice. “There’s some technical errors, and maybe you want to get rid of some fluff, but I’d be happy to help you edit.” The brunette was shocked, he wasn’t used to having someone help him and it was strange for him to even agree to have someone help him. He swiped his nose with his thumb and looked down at the ground “Yeah sounds good” Mickey trailed off. “Do you need me? Or can I head out” Mickey stated gesturing with his head towards the door. Rachel let out a nervous laugh “of course, see you tomorrow.” With that Mickey finished up some final tasks and started home.

When Mickey opened the door to their apartment the space had been completely transformed. The apartment was washed in candle light, there was soft music in the background it took him a moment to realize what it was but to his horror and delight Portishead Music to Fuck To was being played. Ian could be deviant at times and it was a total turn on when he assumed this role. Ian appeared his giant shadow cast on the walls taking up the space, taking up Mickey’s world as he had continuously done over the course of their relationship. He was wearing a white button down that was only partially done up with loose fitting distressed jeans that slightly bunched at his ankles and exposed his hip bones. Mickey was transfixed. He followed Ian with his eyes but stood stock still. Ian cocked his head causing strands of his red hair to fall into his eyes. “Waited for you to come home” he prompted while crossing the room. Mickey’s throat went dry, he couldn’t formulate any words poetic or snarky in response. His bottom lip slightly parted from his top as he licked his lips. Ian caught on to the small gesture not missing a beat. He closed the gap between them and pulled Mickey in close. “Missed you” he said huskily breathing in Mickey’s unique scent and palming him through his jeans. 

Mickey’s eyes fluttered, he had to remember to tell himself mentally to breathe. He leaned into Ian knowing fully well the ginger could bare the weight of both of them. None of Mickey’s reactions were thought out, everything was primal. He dropped his eyes on the floor not giving a fuck and groped for Ian’s ass. Ian hummed his approval and dragged his boyfriend to their bedroom. 

Inside there was a similar setup, the music continuing to bounce off the walls taking advantage of the great acoustics. Mickey wasted no time in removing his restrictive jeans revealing the massive boner escaping his boxers. “Tonight I want to try something different” Ian tisked. Mickey gulped not knowing what Ian had in store. Ian reached down to the bed and pulled out their Whoredini and a decently sized dildo. “I wanna bottom tonight” he said without faltering. “You’re the best fucking bottom baby, you take care of me so good, I just want to return the favor. I’ve been practicing a little every night, thinking about how that strong cock is gonna fuckin’ demolish me.” Mickey was taken care of and very well. He’d thought about plowing Ian from time to time but it wasn’t necessary. Whatever Ian wanted though Mickey was going to make happen.

He undid the button on Ian’s jeans which slouched further down his legs. Ian shimmied out of them, to reveal that he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Mickey licked his lips at the sight ready to devour his partner. Ian moved over to the bed and got on all fours as Mickey slapped his ass and then rubbed where there was a mark left from his hand. Squeezing the lube onto Mickey’s shaft he guided the head of his cock up and down Ian’s crack. The redhead shivered at the sensation. Mickey wondered out loud “How is it that you’re horny all the fuckin’ time Gallagher?” To which Ian replied “It’s not that I’m always horny, it’s that you’re always so fuckin’ sexy all the time.” Mickey never grew tired of his boyfriend’s adoration. Being regarded as anything other than a scrappy survivor was refreshing. 

“I’m already prepped for you Mick.” Ian’s voice was full of desire. Mickey bit his inner cheek, “You think you’re ready to take it? Got yourself all fucked up without me to enjoy it” teased Mickey. 

“Nah” responded Ian impatiently and he nodded over to the corner where there was a red light glowing in the distance. “Recorded it for your bubble butt.” 

Mickey clammed up, “You recording this shit?” as he backed away from Ian. 

Ian turned to look in Mickey’s direction realizing he may have ruined the moment. “I can turn it off” he said quickly. He scrambled off of the bed tripping on his gangly limbs while Mickey sat back on his haunches. Ian turned the camera off the red light vanishing and the camera lens covering being replaced. “I’m sorry Mick, I just filmed myself, promise. I can delete it all if you want. I just wanted to give you something, something different.” 

The mood had shifted, Mickey was turned on thinking about watching Ian but fuck no he wasn’t going to be on camera ramming a dude. Even if it was the love of his life. And why would he need to watch the firecrotch when he had the real thing every night. Mickey went from hot to cold and then boiling in a flash.

“What the fuck Ian!” Mickey was up and pacing the length of the room sliding his hand through his hair. Ian’s staccato movements to capture an annoyed Mickey in his arms were futile. He decided it might be best to sit this one out and let Mickey run the gamut of emotions until he was rational. Ian’s ass cheeks slid against one another as he sat in mild amusement, his arms stretched out behind him supporting his upper body. After a few minutes of Mickey ranting Ian asked quietly “Are you done?”

Mickey looked at Ian who shamelessly sat there naked as the day he was born. If the idiot only knew what that look he was giving Mickey did to him. How the rage died down and became pent up passion in an instant. He wasn’t going to give into it has he usually did let Ian explain himself he thought. 

“I’m going to be leaving town for a week. It’s not a huge deal but I wanted to let you know how much I was going to miss you while I’m gone. So that’s why I made the video. Nothing more or less promise.” Ian’s eyes pleaded with Mickey who softened at the idea of being left alone for the week. 

“What the fuck do you mean you’re leaving?” Mickey had a lump in his throat. People usually left and they didn’t come back in his experience. Tears threatened the edges of his blue eyes the heat in his voice dissipating. Ian shot up and held held the man who was teetering on the edge. “I promise I’ll be back, you’re my home” Ian whispered into Mickey’s midnight colored hair. “I’m not leaving you.”

Mickey breathed in shallow breathes. It had been a whole year that the goofy ginger gave him and it was the best year of his life. Although Ian was certain he’d come back there was no way to promise that. So here was the real test. To let Ian go and let life bring them back together. As if Ian had a direct line to his thoughts he said “It’s only a week Mick, and it’s something that’s going to be good for both of us if it works out.” His ginger was trying to lighten the mood, and Mickey knew he was overreacting. But he had a bad feeling about this time apart. 

“What is it exactly?” questioned Mickey trying to compose himself. 

“Leo has a business opportunity out of town and he wants me to help him with it.” offered Ian. 

“Can’t he do that shit by himself, don’t see why he’s gotta bring your ass along.” Mickey lied to himself. As business savvy and Leo was Ian was the face of the operation. 

“Leo’s been good to me. To both of us. He’s willing to make me a partner in the business deal. Can you imagine that? A South Side kid being a partner in a business deal? I’ll never be able to make good money between working two part time jobs and tips. This could set us up real good Mickey. You could focus on writing.”

Mickey knew this was an opportunity that didn’t come knocking twice. Ian had a point that they owed Leo something for all the times he had their back and that Mickey could focus solely on writing. So reluctantly he nodded into Ian’s chest his approval.


	2. I carry a piece of you with me, always

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian and Mickey spend a week a part and then reunite. Fluff and smut, but mostly smut.

It had been just about six hours since Ian left. That morning Mickey had made pancakes, a spread of banana, chocolate chips and powdered sugar to boot as toppings. The two men ate their pancakes, Mickey taking Ian’s mannerisms in, making a mental video of all the details. Ian’s sunset orange hair, how his eyes closed and the corners of his mouth turned up as the smell of a surprise breakfast hit their bedroom that morning. Ian’s soft hands holding Mickey’s rough hands from years of dirt, grease, and cold weather… take your pick. Those six hours were eating at Mickey. To fill the time Mickey had picked up extra shifts at the bookstore this week. Tonight, was not one of those nights though. He called Mandy and she was down to chill but wouldn’t be there for another three hours. _“Fuck”_ thought Mickey, this was going to be a shit week.

 

He could write but he knew he was to distracted to put pen to paper and come up with anything good. And if he picked up the phone and hovered over Ian in his favorites to dial or text for what felt like the millionth time since he left, Mickey might have to commit himself --- because it just can’t be healthy to be this obsessed. But, to be fair, Ian was going to the Adult Entertainment Expo. Mickey chewed on his lower lip thinking about it. Ian was going to be traipsing about Las Vegas. The city which held secrets. Where men and women would fawn over Ian. Mickey from 1,748 miles away couldn’t stop what was already in motion and for once instead of reading about love and its powers he had to believe in it and hope to g-d that it worked.

 

Ian was already on his fifth cigarette, if cancer didn’t kill him-- this trip would. He didn’t see the appeal of Los Vegas so far. It was a bright ass town with fake ass people based off of the strip as his only example. He didn’t think it was possible but he missed Chicago. At least in Chicago you know where you stood with people. At least in Chicago there was Mickey. Leo was going on and on about the meetings set for the week, the promotional space that they had rented at the convention, meetings with higher ups in the industry. Really, Ian could care less. His mind was elsewhere while the physical was stuck in a fuckin’ rental car with Leo. Ian whipped his phone out of his pocket. It might be a bitch move but Ian couldn’t help himself. He fired off a text to Mickey in hopes that he wasn’t busy.

_Miss you Mick, wish you were here._

 

Mickey’s phone pinged while he was pacing the room. He pounced on the phone, relieved to see it was Ian.

_Landed ok? Miss your lanky ass._ He teased. While the banter was a great distraction, he knew just as well as Ian that he couldn’t contain his bleeding heart for too long. Mickey was typing his version of sweet nothings and firing them off to Ian. _My family always warned me about the south side, but never about a green-eyed stranger that’d steal my heart._

  
Ian read the text message and felt his chest tighten. The ache of missing Mickey was real. The warmth of his body spooned into Ian as they lay in bed, the day to day shit that wormed its way into being part of their daily routine, nagging Mickey to do one thing or another around the apartment or reminding him to turn lights off. All the nonsense shit… Ian would kill to have that peacefulness right now. Some may call it monotonous, or domestic, but to Ian it was a sense of stability that he severely lacked in his own home and he was glad to have these so called first world problems. _You have my heart babe, always have, always will._

Mickey saw the text and laid out on their loveseat, his legs hanging over the arm rest and his arms stretched out in the air above him. He kept reading the text and then brought the phone to rest on his chest with a sigh. This was his--- no their love story. And the whimsical may have been replayed with anal beads. The castle with a shitty one bedroom, but he wouldn’t trade their story for a glass slipper or a magic carpet. He loved their raunchy poetic mess the way it was.

The week was finally coming to a close. Ian ended up making some great business connections and even hooked himself and Mickey up with some perks from the expo. He had a laugh while Mickey fumed about the porn contract that had been offered to him, but politely declined. Ian was ready to get home and breathe in his partner’s familiar scent and would only be content when they were skin to skin. Mickey was going to pick him up from the airport and Ian was anxious to meet him. The anticipation was killing both men in their separate corners.

Mickey kept checking the gate information, _motherfuckin’ plane landed_ he thought and he walked away from the info screen back to the baggage claim area. His cuffed jeans fell just right on his booted feet. He had a tucked in dark grey cotton t-shirt that compliments his blue eyes. Mickey ran a hand through his hair to starve off the nerves that were gnawing their way through his entire body. He bit his lip and licked his lips waiting, wanting and ready to embrace Ian. Just as Mickey was contemplating if he could out run the hefty TSA agent he saw the top of Ian’s orange hair bobbing its way through the crowd. His face and body were still hidden behind the crowd, a true feat for someone of his height. Mickey’s heartrate began to speed up. A sheen of sweat prickled palms. Instinctively he rubbed his palms on his jeans and stretched his neck to the right and then to the left but never letting his eyes leave the weaving pattern of Ian’s hair. Finally, Ian was visible from where Mickey stood and his breath hitched. Ian was more beautiful than Mickey’s memory allowed.

 

Ian scanned the crowd and his eyes zeroed in on Mickey immediately. His black hair short around the sides but longer on top brushed his forehead. Mickey’s broad shoulders and well-toned arms stretched the thin grey fabric. His dark washed cuffed jeans were equally fitting, lining his hips and Ian began to constrict in his own jeans. Ian quickened his long strides. He dropped his bag when he was within arm’s reach of his lover. Mickey was to awe struck to move, and he didn’t have to. Ian wrapped an arm around Mickey’s waist pulling him in, crashing their lips together. Ian pushed his tongue hungrily into Mickey’s mouth which was slack. Ian’s other hand cupped the back of Mickey’s head. Mickey’s hands roamed from the orange mop, his fingertips brushed down Ian’s exposed neck causing him to shiver. Further down Mickey gripped Ian’s belt loops with his fingers bringing their hips closer. Mickey lost his balance just slightly but Ian was there to steady him. Breathlessly the pulled apart. Ian rested his forehead on Mickey’s and they stood there for a good minuet before either of them spoke up. Ian opened his eyes and met Mickey’s blue stare.

“Fuck I missed you” he trailed off, nuzzling his nose against Mickey’s cheek. Mickey nodded in agreement and raised his head to skim his kiss swollen lips against Ian’s forehead. He whispered into Ian’s skin as Ian closed his eyes once more,

“Touch has a memory. O say, love, say,/ What can I do to kill it and be free/ In my old liberty?/ My muse had wings,/ And ever ready was to take his course/ O, let me once more rest/ My soul upon that dazzling breast!/ Let once again these aching arms be plac’d,/ The tender gaolers of thy waist!/ And let me feel that warm breath here and there/ To spread a rapture in my very hair, —/ O, the sweetness of the pain!”

Ian’s doe eyes fluttered open, his long lashes tickling Mickey. When Mickey quoted his favorite authors or poets Ian had a habit of mentally retaining a portion of what was said and then looked it up later to find the complete or an excerpt of the work. He made note of the author and scribbled it down in a notebook. The notebook was fat from use, rolled and unrolled, flaking at the edges. Despite its tatty appearance, Ian loved his notebook and secretly called it his Mickey notebook. He read from it frequently and some quotes Ian knew by heart. Mickey didn’t know what the notebook was, he thought Ian had studying going on or maybe it was an order book for the shop. He didn’t worry himself to much with the notebook. After all Mickey had piles of notebooks over the years filled with ideas, character analysis, random shit that was the chaos in his brain on paper. So, when Ian pulled out the worn notebook breaking their physical connection to jot down a short hand version of the quote Mickey was baffled.

“What are you doing?” Questioned Mickey slowly, raising his eyebrows to extreme levels. Ian side eyed him but continued to write. “Nothing, why?” Retorted Ian in a blasély tone. The fucker was back, and as much to Mickey’s delight, this meant that Ian was also right back to annoying the shit out of him in the most loving way possible.

“Nothing, aye?” Challenged Mickey, swiping the notebook and turning his back to Ian and he thumbed through the pages. Ian stood there waiting for his notebook back. He was worried that the book was being manhandled and was going to say something but Mickey’s harshness eased up, slowly the quotes flooded his senses. He recalled reciting some to Ian at various points of their relationship and others he had burned on the back of his eyelids after years of reading and rereading, memorizing and letting the quote become a part of his muscle memory. Sinking deep into the tissue and fat that padded his bones. Ian cleared his throat garnering Mickey’s attention. Mickey looked up at his redhead who was shuffling from one foot to the other. This intimacy they shared earlier and the exposure of the book in the middle of Chicago O’Hare airport brought Mickey back to his senses. “Did you check a bag?” He said quickly returning the book to Ian who folded it and replaced it back to the inner pocket of his jacket. He scooped up his carryon and nodded towards the exit.

At home Mickey finally breached the question that was on his mind. “So” he said trying to go for casual but failing miserably. “What’s up with the notebook?”

Ian thought it was obvious, his deadpan look should have given Mickey all the info he needed. But Mickey’s eyes didn’t leave the floor as he waited for Ian’s response.

“Mick, it’s all the quotes you’ve ever recited to me. Well, most of them anyway. I keep it with me always. Couldn’t have gotten through Vegas without it to be honest.” He cupped Mickey’s face and brought his gaze to meet Mickey’s. The brunette melted at the admission. He honestly had no idea Ian felt this way about the quotes, enough to make them into a book and to carry it around with him. A small part of Mickey was always with Ian, no matter what. Mickey’s words failed him so he responded in the only way he knew how. Physically. Mickey slid the tip of his tongue from the base of Ian’s neck up to his cheek. He bit at Ian’s lower lip, sucking at it with just the right amount of pressure. Ian stumbled backwards onto the loveseat. Mickey took the opportunity to straddle Ian. The loveseat was literally and figuratively living up to its name. They had christened it many times over during the last year and tonight would be no different. Mickey grinded down on Ian’s bulging erection, rolling his hips and removing Ian’s shirt with his hands.

Once Ian was free of his shirt and jeans, Mickey placed his hands-on Ian’s shoulders giving him the leverage he needed to pull his own jeans down swiftly. Ian kept mickey suspended and removed his boxers. Mickey’s erection bounced upon release and Ian caught it in his warm mouth. Ian moaned from deep in his diaphragm as he took Mickey in deep. In turn Mickey started to buck into Ian, unable to contain himself. For a whole week, he didn’t touch himself-- not once. No masturbating, no beads, he was dying to be fucked, sucked and drained of energy and cum.

“Babe, gotta warn you, probably not gonna last long.” Mickey muttered as he relished in the sensation of the tip of his dick being tapped by Ian’s tonsils.

Ian just hummed his response, the vibration causing Mickey to hiss in reply. He was overly sensitive having been saving himself for this exact moment. Ian aimed to please as he sucked and pulled at Mickey’s balls. Mickey threw his head back and arched his back deepening the contact. Ian took it like a champ not once coughing or letting his eyes water in response to the deep throating he currently was assaulting his boyfriend with. Mickey’s fingernails dug into Ian’s shoulders, it would surely leave its mark after their romp but Ian didn’t complain. He hollowed his cheeks creating more suction and Mickey’s dick started to throb. Ian gave himself more room moving up Mickey’s shaft for the incoming hot salty liquid that was coating his throat.

“Mmmm, missed how you taste sexy.” Ian purred from underneath Mickey. Mickey’s legs were wobbly even with the support of Ian and he slumped down once Ian leaned back releasing him. He rested his head-on Ian’s shoulder kissing the fingernail markings and wrapping his legs around his waist. Although Mickey was recovering from their warm up act Ian had no intentions of letting up on Mickey. Ian coated two fingers with Whordini now with warming action. A perk from the expo. As soon as Ian started to open Mickey the warming began. Mickey picked his head up, a surprised look took over his face. “What the?” Ian looked at him with a devilish grin. “Scored the newest whordini product, like it.” Mickey wasn’t sure how he felt about it but he wasn’t stopping Ian’s deft fingers from their mission. He just relaxed into Ian’s touch and rotated his hips further prepping for what was about to come.

Ian’s free hand grabbed onto Mickey’s plump cheek and he created tension on the cheek, parting it, allowing himself more access. Ian continued the small circles and pushed in further. Mickey’s rim was now relaxed around Ian’s fingers when he added a third finger causing Mickey’s thick thighs to tremble. G-d Mickey was fuckin’ sexy. Ian wanted to bury himself in Mickey’s ass and hold onto those thighs as he ripped him apart. In due time Ian had to remind himself. For now, he wanted to savor in obliterating his love.

“Ian” whimpered Mickey, unable to still his thighs, “I’m ready” he got out through gritted teeth. Ian knew Mickey was ready, he practically had a whole fist in his ass. But Ian wanted to torture Mickey in the best way possible. Ian dipped his head into Mickey’s neck and sucked while his fingers still worked Mickey. Mickey was giving Ian an enthusiastic hand job with the same warming Whordini. Mickey would bring his hand from the base of Ian’s cock to the tip in quick motions, allowing for his thumb to lightly press and brush the pre-cum pooling at the head. Mickey allowed the pre-cum to drip down his hand creating further sensations for Ian to lose his mind over. When Micky took his pre-cum soaked thumb and sucked his thumb dry Ian knew that he needed to have his release in his boyfriend. He looked at Mickey who nodded and Ian entered Mickey filling the space with his massive cock. They fucked at a fast pace, obscenities leaving both of their mouths. Thanking whatever deities allowed for the pair to be placed together.

“Shit Ian!” Mickey screamed, whatever neighbors heard them Mickey had zero fucks to give. It was positively raining no fucks given in the Gallagher Milkovich apartment. As Ian felt himself swelling around Mickey’s rim, he thrusted into him hard, not easing up in the slightest and he repeatedly hit Mickey’s prostate again and again. They were sweaty and Mickey bounced on Ian’s cock, his legs locking around Ian and his arms hanging limply around Ian’s neck. Neither of them could last much longer given their current state. Mickey clenched his ass, tightening the grip on Ian and it pushed him over the edge. Ian pumped a load into his boyfriend that he knew was going to dribble down the back and inner of those delicious thighs. Ian was still throbbing inside his lover and his stomach twitched with the release. He’d never get tired of giving it to Mickey. Ian had no intentions of moving and he was glad to see Mickey was in the same frame of mind. Their sticky bodies clung to each other ravenous for contact. Blissed out and satiated Mickey fell asleep on top of Ian with his head resting on Ian’s chest. Ian too fell asleep still inside his partner exhausted from traveling and fucking the shit out of Mickey with his arms still wrapped around him.


End file.
